Miracle
by csiAngel
Summary: Co authored with DNAisUnique. CG. Tis the season to believe...
1. Prologue: 22nd December

Title: Miracle  
>Authors: DNAisUnique and csiAngel<br>Summary: Tis the season to believe…  
>Rating: PG<br>Disclaimer: We do not own Lie to me* or anything else in this story that seems familiar.  
>AN: We were asked to write Christmastiems. Instead we wrote this. A year later. We started this last December. So it's set back then. We hope you like it :) It is our intention that we'll post a chapter a day up until Sunday. Merry Christmas!

... ... ...

Prologue - December 22nd

To anyone who knew Gillian Foster, it would come as no surprise that she loved Christmas. She loved the weather; the lights; the music. She loved the happy feeling it gave her; she loved the excitement on the faces of the children she'd pass in the street. She loved the cheesy TV movies that started to air mid-November. And, in particular, she loved to watch Cal's reaction to arriving in her office and finding that the festive spirit had quite firmly taken hold. Or, to be entirely honest with herself, she loved watching Cal pretend that he didn't love the season as much as she did. She would catch the smile on his lips, and twinkle in his eyes, before he expertly hid them. The soft tone to his voice would give away that - even though his words were reprimanding her for loving it all so much - he was happy to see her so excited. But, after all, they were deception experts, so she knew that he knew she was on to him. And he knew that she knew that. And that was all part of the festive fun.

Last Christmas had not been as nice as Gillian liked it to be. The knowledge that Cal could have been killed in Afghanistan; the flickering image eventually vanishing from the screen - stayed with her long after he was safely returned.

This year, she was determined that he wasn't going anywhere. And so far so good. They had made it to the evening of December 22nd and danger hadn't found him. Only one more working day after this one. Surely she could keep it at bay a bit longer.

She had just left Cal in his office. He had been occupied mumbling about the four foot Christmas tree she had had erected in the corner of that room while they were out. She couldn't help the grin that she wore on her lips as she walked along the corridor to her own office. Emily had once again done a remarkable job with a beautiful tree in the entrance; twinkling lights lined every wall, and there was a definite festive buzz throughout the office. And now Cal's office - thus far the only room without decoration - was also suitably adorned. This Christmas was going to be perfect.

Humming the first few lines of 'Jingle Bells', Gillian strode into her office and over to her desk. She stopped just as she was about to sit down when she caught sight of a newspaper that she didn't recall having left on her desk. The headline read: "'Miracle' or Maniac?" and beneath the text sat a photograph of an elderly man, his hand raised to block his face from the camera.

Sitting down, she picked up the paper and continued to read the article. It transpired that the man had been fired from his role as a toy store Santa for claiming to be the real thing. His employers suggested that such delusions were a sign that he wasn't fit to work around children. Mr Kringle (as he had insisted his name was) had offered no comment to the press.

Gillian frowned, unsettled by the article. It was so similar to 'Miracle on 34th Street' - obviously the inspiration for the headline - a film that had been one of her favourites since her childhood (though she tended to watch the remake nowadays - the pull of Dylan McDermott). She knew, of course, that the Mr Kringle of this article was not the real Santa Claus, but it was sad to see him being put through this. Although, she could see the store's point of view as well. Really, whichever way she looked at it, the story was unsettling.

She put the paper to one side, deciding - as she logged into her email account - that tonight was a good time to break out the 'Miracle' DVD. Again.

TBC…


	2. Chapter One:  23rd December

A/N: Sincere apologies for the delay with the rest of this fic. Real life, it seems, had other plans for us! We'll post the rest as soon as we possibly can! In the meantime, we hope you enjoy this really long chapter.

... ... ...

Chapter One - December 23rd

Gillian greeted Anna with a cheerful smile when she arrived at work the next morning. In one hand, she carried a gingerbread latte and, in the other, some files of research that she had decided would keep Cal busy and out of trouble, if it became necessary.

"Good morning, Doctor Foster," Anna smiled back. "Doctor Lightman said to tell you that he's here. Emily's with him in his office."

"Thank you, Anna," Gillian responded, trying to ignore the churning that was beginning in her stomach. It was unusual for Cal to arrive before her in the morning. This probably meant he was up to something. And the fact that he had Emily with him probably meant he wanted a shield - so it definitely wasn't going to be something that Gillian liked.

She stopped by her office first, depositing the files on her desk. She kept the latte with her; she had a feeling she'd be needing the sugar.

… … …

Cal recognised his visitor from the rhythm of the knock on his office door, and, as he'd expected, she didn't wait for his permission to enter.

"Good morning," Gillian greeted them both, clearly still in Christmas cheer mode.

Cal did his best to look disapproving of her overly chirpy mood, but when he saw Gillian smirk he knew that he hadn't been fast enough to hide his smile. Truth was, he loved Christmas time because he loved what it did to Gillian. But to tell her that might taint it; might make her self-conscious about it. And it would definitely stop the playful arguments about him joining her in the seasonal spirit. He couldn't have that.

"Hi Gillian," Emily responded, then fixed Cal with a pointed look.

That wasn't really necessary; Cal had no intentions of forgetting what he was supposed to ask Gillian. But it made him smile to know that Emily was so enthusiastic about it.

Gillian took a seat beside Emily and tried not to let her happy disposition falter as she looked between father and daughter questioningly. Cal watched her sip demurely from the cup she held in her hand - no doubt a gingerbread latte, her favourite winter beverage - and knew she was expecting bad news. Though it was a cruel thought, it briefly occurred to him to keep her wondering. But then he felt Emily's impatience boring into him and decided against it.

"So, Gill, do you have any plans tomorrow evening?" he asked, casually. "Carolling? Decking... any halls you haven't yet decked? Watching cheesy holiday movies?"

A soft smile rose on her lips. "The latter," she answered, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh no reason. Emily and I were wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner. But if you're busy -"

"Bring the movie with you," Emily suggested excitedly, "We can watch it after dinner."

Gillian's eyes lit up at Emily's offer and, while Cal had initially cringed at the thought of being subjected to a cheesy film, the image of being curled up on his couch with Gillian suddenly invaded his mind. And he couldn't help but feel that he would watch paint dry with her if she asked him to.

Gillian turned from Emily to Cal, and her anticipation morphed into uncertainty. "I'm not sure your dad would be -"

Cal shook his head. "Bring the movie. I can always doze off."

"And he probably will!" Emily added.

"Oi!" Cal protested as Gillian laughed.

"Well it's true!" Emily insisted. "It'll be nice to have someone to talk to after eight p.m."

While Cal glared at Emily, Gillian accepted. "Well, in that case, I would love to join you. And let me bring dessert as well."

"No, love, you don't have to-"

"Please?" she implored. "It's the least I can do."

A knock on the still open office door interrupted Cal's planned retort, and Anna popped her head into the office. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she apologised, "There's a gentleman in the waiting area who would like to speak to you both about a case."

"Tell him we close for-"

"Cal..." Gillian cut him off. "Thank you, Anna, I'll be out in a minute."

Anna smiled and ducked out of the room.

"Darling, we close today for Christmas. We can't take a new case," Cal argued.

"Cal, you don't even know what it is," Gillian reminded him as she stood. "It might be really quick."

"Yeah, well if it isn't, tell him to come back in January!"

Gillian rolled her eyes as she placed her cup on the corner of the desk. Heading for the door, she quipped, "Or we could grant his Christmas wish," and she glanced at Cal with a mischievous smile before she disappeared through the doorway.

Cal watched her leave and only realised that he was grinning inanely when he noticed Emily smirking at him. He adjusted in his seat and found something on the desk to make him look busy as he muttered, "She's already seen too many cheesy Christmas movies. We shouldn't encourage her."

... … …

Gillian stepped into the waiting area and paused when she saw the man seated in a chair against the wall. Hands folded in his lap, his eyes-were they twinkling?-wandered around the room, appreciating the decorations. Her thoughts flashed to the mysterious appearance of a newspaper from the day before. Even though the man in the photo had shielded his face from the camera, Gillian could tell that it was the same man who now sat in front of her.

"Mr Kringle," she greeted him with a pleasant smile, intrigued as to his reason for being here.

He stood up and took a couple of steps to stand opposite her and shake her hand.

"I'm Gillian Foster," she introduced herself. "What can The Lightman Group do for you?"

"Well, you recognised me," he began, "So I assume you know my story."

Gillian nodded, sympathetically. "It's been difficult to miss. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, politely dismissing her concern. "I'm used to it… It's just not usually so public. I don't mind people choosing not to believe in me; but I like for everyone to be able to make up their own mind… These stories are influencing people, and, I don't like that."

"And that's where we come in?" Gillian deduced, as yet undecided on her feelings regarding his belief that he was who he said he was.

"Precisely, my dear. I would like you and Doctor Lightman to assure people that I'm not crazy. Doctor Lightman is available as well, I take it?"

The question surprised Gillian slightly, added suddenly to the end of his explanation. "Er, yes. Doctor Lightman is just speaking to his daughter and then we can go and see him."

"Ah good," Kris smiled. "I was hoping to work with both of you. I know that you make a great team."

That comment surprised Gillian, accustomed as she was to people asking for Cal because it was his name that was on the wall.

"You've heard of us?"

Kris nodded, emphatically, "Oh yes."

"And you know that we're about the truth. I can't guarantee you that we'll find what you hope we'll find."

Kris smiled, enigmatically. "The truth is all I'm hoping you'll find, Doctor Foster."

… … …

Emily sauntered out of her father's office, pleased with herself for persuading Cal to invite Gillian over for Christmas Eve. She was getting tired of watching them light up whenever they were together yet still avoid admitting their feelings. Christmas seemed like the perfect time to give them a gentle nudge - or, if it proved necessary, a forceful shove - towards each other. Yes, she had it all planned. This year was going to be a very happy Christmas for everyone.

As she approached the waiting area, Gillian was just stepping out of it.

"You going home?" she asked Emily.

Emily nodded. "Via the grocery store. If they have any food left."

Gillian smiled understandingly. "Well, let me know if you need me to bring anything else tomorrow."

"I will. Thanks Gillian."

Gillian headed off the way Emily had just come and Emily turned to resume her exit. She stopped short when she caught sight of the man sitting in the waiting area. Her eyes widened and she quickly shut her mouth, which had dropped open.

She was still standing staring in disbelief - trying to convince herself that she was imagining what she was seeing - when the voices of Loker and Torres reached her ears and she snapped out of it to share her discovery with them.

She intercepted them before they turned the corner.

"Hey, Em," Loker greeted her, before frowning at her shocked state.

"Are you-"

Emily cut off Torres' concerned question with a more important one of her own. "Have you seen who's..." She trailed off, but an incline of her head towards the glass wall beside them finished for her.

Loker and Torres followed her indication and their own expressions shared Emily's shock.

"Is that-?" Torres began.

"It definitely looks like-" Loker agreed.

"It can't be though-"

"You don't think-"

"It seems coincidental," Emily contributed.

"But he's not-"

"Yeah, he can't-"

They all quickly looked away when the man they were staring at turned and spotted them.

... … …

"Cal," Gillian said, re-entering his office. "The client has requested your presence."

"Don't they all?"

Gillian tilted her head to the side and fixed him with a 'don't-be-so-cocky' gaze.

"Just tell him I'll get back with him after Christmas."

Gillian grinned as she retrieved her latte.

"What?"

"You definitely should meet with him now. You'll" -though it came out sounding more like 'Yule'- "find him…amusing."

"Oh, yeah?" Cal asked, his curiosity piqued more than he would let on. "And knock it off with the crappy Christmassy jokes, eh?"

Her grin widened; she knew he would catch the subtlety of her phrase, even if he claimed to dislike the Christmas season. "Only if you agree to meet with this gentleman."

"All right, then," he sighed. "I'll be along in a minute."

She pointed a finger at him and smirked. "No sneaking out."

"Would I do that?"

"Of course you would, Cal. Consider this your Christmas bonus to me."

"Who said anything about bonuses?" Cal responded with a laugh.

Gillian rolled her eyes in return. "I'm serious, Cal."

"I know, darling."

Gillian left him, still laughing, and returned to the reception area where Mr. Kringle had agreed to wait. She didn't know what it was about the elderly man, but he had a certain charm. His eyes and his voice were gentle and kind, and she could imagine him making children laugh when they visited him as Santa Claus. It seemed a shame for that to have been taken away. But, if he was mentally unstable, then it was maybe for the best. She sighed, more solemnly this time. This could turn into a difficult case.

Gillian had not expected to find Kris talking to Emily, Loker and Torres, but, there they were: A little huddle in the corridor. She frowned, curiously, and approached them.

"Ah, Doctor Foster," Kris welcomed her, "I was just chatting with your colleagues and young Emily here, about what they want for Christmas."

Gillian smiled, fondly. "Isn't it a little late?" she teased. "Shouldn't they have written to you weeks ago?"

While all of them laughed at Gillian's question, she noticed that the laughter of the younger three became forced when Kris replied, "Oh they did."

She frowned at them again and they just smiled at her. And, though she knew they had tried for smiles of innocence, they merely achieved discomfort.

Deciding that Kris deserved a comfortable place to sit - away from the bizarre behaviour of the others - Gillian excused them and led Kris to her office to wait for Cal.

"Doctor Lightman will join us shortly. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, my dear," he declined politely. "Though I too enjoy the occasional gingerbread latte," he added with a smile.

She wasn't expecting that comment, and glanced at her cup, wondering for a second how he knew. She didn't know quite what to say.

"My, my, what lovely decorations you have!" he exclaimed, graciously moving along the conversation, and admiring her obvious enthusiasm for Christmas.

"Er-thank you," Gillian replied after a beat, still wondering if their shared fondness for gingerbread lattes was a coincidence. "I've always loved Christmas."

"I know."

She gazed at him, unasked questions written on her face.

"One doesn't acquire this amount of paraphernalia in a single season. It's collected through the years, cherished and cared for," he supplied.

"It certainly is," she replied quietly, a small smile on her lips.

His gaze landed on a paper snowflake. "Don't see many of these anymore."

"I…acquired that last year," Gillian told him, remembering how she'd snagged it off the tree and tucked it away before Cal or Loker could trash it. Not that either of them could have bothered to help Emily and her take down any of the decorations. Still, that snowflake was special. To her, it signified Cal's safe return from Afghanistan, for which she was exceedingly grateful. Not knowing if he was okay was a feeling she hoped to never experience again. Each snowflake, whether made of paper or water, was unique-just like Cal. Gillian smiled to herself at the thought.

"Doctor Foster?" Kris cleared his throat. "Gillian?"

"Oh, I apologise," she said, being pulled back into the present. "Won't you have a seat, Mr. Kringle?" she continued, indicating the sitting area at the back of her office.

"Yes, thank you. And please call me Kris. 'Mr. Kringle' sounds so…formal."

During interactions with clients, Gillian usually preferred to keep things professional, but because of his warm nature, she found herself agreeing to call him 'Kris', and asking him to call her Gillian.

Kris took a seat on the couch, and Gillian perched on the edge of the chair beside it; her back rested on the arm of the chair so she could face him.

"I hope I'm not taking you away from another case," Kris said, suddenly, a flash of guilt in his eyes.

"Oh, no," Gillian shook her head. "Not at -"

Gillian saw Kris' gaze shift to over her shoulder just before Cal's voice floated into the room.

"There you are," he said to her from the doorway.

Gillian rotated and smiled at Cal, rather excited to see his reaction to meeting their client.

"There _you _are," she echoed. Then she made the introductions, trying to suppress her amused smirk as she watched Cal recognise Kris. "Cal, Kris Kringle. Kris, Cal Lightman."

Eyebrows raised, Cal sucked in a deep breath and tried to be polite. "Pleasure, Mr. Kringle. Mind if I have a moment with my partner?"

"Not at all," Kris replied. "And it's Kris, please."

"Right," he said, taking Gillian by the arm and pulling her out into the hallway. "Is this for real?"

Still smirking, she said, "I told you you'd be amused."

Cal sighed. "A bloke comes in here claiming he's Santa Claus, and you think I'd be amused? He wants us to prove he's a jolly fat man who squeezes down chimneys and leaves toys for spoiled children?"

"Let me guess-you only got coal in your stocking," she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

He narrowed his eyes for a brief moment. A twitch. Were they really having this conversation?

"How many times have you taken a case because you were emotionally attached?" Gillian pointed out.

He stepped closer, well into her personal space. "That's what this is-emotion?"

"Cal, the man's story is in all of the papers. He's not asking us to prove he's Santa Claus. He just wants us to tell the truth. That _is _what we do here."

Cal sighed and considered her argument. "You know, you can be bloody irritating."

"That's a two-way street," she replied, ending the conversation as she turned on her heel and went back into her office, leaving Cal alone in the hallway.

"I apologize for the interruption, Mr. Kringle-Kris," Gillian addressed the older man, a forced smile on her face. "My _partner _and I needed to briefly discuss-"

"Whether or not you'd take my case," Kris finished for her. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. It's perfectly all right. As you said, Gillian, I'm not asking you to believe in me, only that you believe me."

"We'll take your case, Mr Kringle," Cal said from the doorway, "but we're after the truth. Understand that before we go any further."

Kris smiled. "Yes, that point was made. I'm ready to proceed."

"Great. Gillian, take care of the paperwork."

"You're not going to join us?" Gillian questioned.

"You can handle it," Cal insisted. Then he was gone.

... … …

When Kris and Gillian were finished with the necessary paperwork, they stood and shook hands. "Thank you for listening. Your kindness will be rewarded."

Gillian smiled. "We do what we can. Oh," she said, suddenly remembering a previously unasked question. "How can we contact you?"

Kris chuckled, his entire body shaking heartily. Still grasping her hand, he patted it with his other hand. "I'll be quite busy over the next few days. I'll be in touch with you."

"But…"

"Don't worry, my dear, you'll be compensated."

"I'm not worried about that. What if we have more questions?"

"Use your own good judgment. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Displeased as she was with his reply, she somehow knew their time had come to a close. "Let me show you out."

"No, no. I'm sure I can find my way. Merry Christmas, Gillian."

"Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you, too."

... … …

Back in his office and just sitting down with a freshly brewed cup of tea, a succession of sharp knocks landed on Cal's door.

"Yeah?" Cal inquired.

Slowly, the door pushed open, and Mr. Kringle entered. "Might I have a moment, Doctor Lightman?"

"Doctor Foster can answer any further questions you have, Mr. Kringle."

Kris chuckled. "Ah, not this one."

Intrigued, Cal motioned for him to have a seat in one of the chairs opposite him. "Go on."

Kris nodded and shut the door before he sat. "You don't believe me," he blatantly stated, though his voice was soft.

"You believe you are who you say you are."

"Classic deflection," Kris said, his eyes twinkling.

Cal sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to study the elderly man. "It's my job to find out when people are lying."

Kris sat forward in his chair. "A proposition? Tell me one thing you'd like for Christmas. You get it, there's your proof."

"There's nothing."

"You know, for someone who's an expert at knowing when others are lying, you're not very good at it yourself."

"Mr. Kringle, if you're going to insult me…"

"No offence intended, I assure you! I only meant that everyone wishes for something."

"I don't."

"I know you believed in me, once upon a time. What happened to that carefree little boy?"

"He got lied to," Cal replied as he stood, indicating that he was finished with the conversation.

Slowly Kris got to this feet. "I seem to have offended you, and for that, my deepest apologies. I hope we're still working together..."

Anyone else and Cal probably would have ended their association there and then. But he felt compelled to continue with this case - most likely because he knew Gillian wouldn't approve of him dropping it.

"Of course," Cal told Kris, starting to walk towards the door so Kris would follow. "But you understand that today is our last day of business, we-"

"Oh yes, yes, of course. I understand. I'm confident everything will be sorted out before Christmas."

Kris stopped beside the tree that Gillian had snuck into the office earlier in the week. "What a beautiful tree. See, you do still believe," he winked at Cal.

"Ah, that was Gillian and my daughter. Always trying to drag me kicking and screaming into the season."

Kris smiled mysteriously. "Emily's a good girl."

Later, Cal would wonder how Kris knew Emily well enough to make that remark, but for now he joked, "You might want to check that twice."

A hearty chuckle was Kris' response. "Think about my proposition, Doctor Lightman," he suggested.

As Kris left, Gillian passed him outside the office, her coat over her arm.

"Kris, I didn't realise you were still here," she commented with surprise.

"I just needed a quiet word with Doctor Lightman," Kris explained. "I'll leave you both to your work now. We'll speak soon."

And then he was gone.

Gillian looked a little suspicious when she resumed her path into Cal's office. "Cal?" His name standing in for so many questions.

"You've come to suggest that we start at the toy store!" he told her, deflecting each and every unspoken query.

She narrowed her eyes - clearly telling him that they would talk about whatever he was avoiding sooner or later - but played along with him. "Wow! It's like you read minds as well as faces!" she remarked with flippant awe.

"Right?" Cal grinned, grabbing his coat and scarf to make it clear they were leaving.

"So, you know what I'm thinking right now then?" she said with a look that would terrify other men.

Cal pushed into her personal space and in a low voice assured her, "Oh yeah, darling. And I thought you were a good girl."

While she rolled her eyes, Cal edged past her into the hall.

… … …

The walk from the parking lot to the toy store took them along a busy street, filled with last minute shoppers, their arms full of bags and boxes. The air danced cold upon their cheeks as the wind picked up the remaining leaves from the ground.

Gillian brought her scarf up more snugly around her chin then shoved her gloved hands back into her pockets. She breathed in the cool air and smiled as the distant notes of "Ding Dong Merrily on High" drifted out of a cafe that they passed. This really was her favourite time of year.

She hummed the carol as they continued to dodge harried shoppers, until Cal commented, "Doesn't take much to put a song in your head, love."

She paused from her gleeful tune to respond, "'Tis the season, Cal."

"Hmm."

"Give it a try," she encouraged.

He laughed once. "I like to think of myself as the Grinch, darling, you know that."

Instinctively, Gillian hooked her left arm around Cal's right, huddling in close as she informed him, "You know, in the end, the Grinch has a change of heart and, in fact, embraces the Christmas spirit."

A sound closely resembling a grunt was Cal's reaction and Gillian giggled softly.

"Must you always be so bubbly when it comes to Christmas?" he groused.

She nudged him with her body as she replied, "Yes."

Cal patted the hand that was resting on his arm. "Luckily one of us is realistic."

Gillian rolled her eyes again. "Oh, bah, humbug."

"That's more like it!"

"You're a mean one, Mr Grinch!" she sang now.

… … …

"Thank you for seeing us," Gillian said to the toy store manager - Mr Whittle - as she and Cal took a seat in front of his large wooden desk. "We know this is a very busy time for you."

"Though less busy now you've not got a Santa, right?" Cal added.

Whittle's eyes and jaw tensed at Cal's remark. "I didn't have to -"

"We'll be as quick as we can," Gillian placated. "Mr Kringle started working here on December first, is that correct?"

Whittle glared at Cal, but seemed unable to refuse to answer Gillian's politely spoken question. "That's right," he said, shifting his focus to Gillian.

"So he worked here for three weeks before you decided he wasn't suitable for the role?" Gillian enquired.

"Until two days ago, we were unaware of certain... issues regarding Mr Kringle."

"Like the fact that he's really Santa Claus?" Cal asked.

Whittle looked uneasy. "Like the fact that he believes that he is Santa Claus."

"You don't believe that?" Cal pushed.

Whittle glanced between Cal and Gillian, settling on Gillian before he next spoke.

"When Mr Kringle came to us about the job, we thought it was... cute that he shared the name; rather quaint that someone given that name would want to work as a department store Santa. We found it charming that he even had his own suit. It was all very 'Miracle on 34th Street'."

"What changed?" Gillian queried.

"As time went on we realised that he hadn't just embraced his name, he truly believed that he was _the _Santa Claus."

Cal asked, "And, despite having no problems with him, or complaints about him, you decided - four days before Christmas - to fire him?"

Whittle swallowed. "Yes."

Cal leaned forward in his chair. "For believing he was Santa Claus?"

There was a beat of hesitation before he answered, "Yes."

"That's your official story," Gillian supplied.

"What's the truth?" Cal demanded.

Whittle swallowed again, his cheeks flushing a little. "Knowing that Mr Kringle is ill, we couldn't have him working around children."

"You don't know he's ill. You don't even believe that he's ill."

"I -"

"Mr Whittle," Gillian took over, gently, "We know that businesses can't take any chances, particularly in these litigious times. But you're not convinced that Mr Kringle was fired for believing he's Santa Claus. The real reason embarrasses you. If you regret the decision, it's not too late to fix that."

Whittle did in fact look regretful as he said, "I cannot rehire Mr Kringle."

"Even if you wanted to," Cal continued for him.

"Mr Kringle was let go after complaints from three staff members regarding his attitude towards them and his conduct outside of work."

Gillian frowned, "Then why let the press believe it's because he thinks he's Santa? That makes you look like the bad guys. You've either fired Santa four days before Christmas, or you've taken too long to get a crazy man away from children."

"We didn't want Mr Kringle to be -"

"You believe," Gillian remarked with a hint of a smile.

"And you discovered that the employees lied," Cal added.

"But you can't prove it."

Cal snorted. "You should have hired us."

Whittle's eyes flitted between Cal and Gillian again and Gillian's smile widened.

"You did hire us," she observed.

"Oh that's clever. Santa played us."

"I recommended you," Whittle clarified. "After Mr Kringle left, another employee informed us that she had seen our Santa from last year hanging around with two of the three who had complained about Kris."

"But one word against three would never work. Okay, what's the name of last year's Santa?"

"I can't give you that information... If you were to discover all this in the course of your investigation..."

Cal nodded and pushed himself out of his chair. "These are litigious times."

Gillian rose from her seat, also, and Mr Whittle stood to see them out.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Whittle," she said, offering a hand to shake.

"Thank you for yours," he replied quietly.

… … …

"What is the world coming to?" Cal grumbled as they made their way through the store towards the exit. "They won't admit to a possible mistake for fear of being sued by three employees."

"At least he helped Kris to find us."

"Yeah. Funny Santa never mentioned that."

"Cal." There was a warning tone to Gillian's voice.

"And what was all that 'You believe' nonsense? You've watched that film recently, haven't you?"

Gillian just smiled, sweetly, and continued walking.

As they passed a saleswoman, Cal excused himself and walked over to her.

"Hi there," she greeted him, "Can I help you today?"

"Yeah, I hope so. Did you know Kris? Used to be Santa -"

"Cal," Gillian called to him, "We don't have permission to question the staff."

"Well I was being discreet," he called back. Then, to the saleswoman, he handed his card. "If any of you want to help Kris, give me a call."

He rejoined Gillian and they continued towards the exit.

"You're getting good at picking up on my plans," he praised her proudly.

"'_Getting_ good'," she echoed, and he smirked. "Which side do you think she's on?"

"There was sympathy in her eyes."

"You sound disappointed."

"Well, it would have been more fun to have the three liars turn up."

"We'll get to them eventually," she assured him, with only a hint of amusement.

"You realise that this new angle isn't going to require us to determine if Kris is or isn't the real Father Christmas?"

"Oh, I think we will learn the answer to that," she stated confidently.

Without thinking, Cal asked her, "Did he offer you the same 'proof'?"

"What proof?" Gillian immediately asked, a hint of excitement to her tone now.

Cal rolled his eyes and held the store door open for Gillian, grateful for the extra seconds to think of a way to deflect her intrigue.

"Cal," she prompted.

"No proof, Gillian," he went with, as they tightened their coats against the cold. "He isn't Santa Claus; he can't really be Santa Claus. I'm sorry to break it to you, but Santa Claus does not exist, love."

"What did he offer you as proof?" she asked, completely ignoring his lame attempt at a diversion.

"He didn't -"

"Is that what you were talking about in your office? Had he sensed that you're a non-believer?" she teased him.

"I don't know where he'd have got that impression."

"So what did he suggest?" she asked again, obviously unwilling to let it go.

With a sigh - because he knew exactly how she would react - Cal admitted, "He wants me to ask for something."

Gillian's eyes lit up. "And when you get it, you'll have to believe... What did you ask for?"

"I didn't."

"Cal." There was that warning tone again. "Where would be the harm in that?"

"Well, this is real life, darling, not 'Miracle on 34th Street'. I don't need to ask for anything."

"I think you've seen that film more recently than you let on. You remember it in great detail. And it'll be fun to ask Kris for something. Remember 'fun'? Lots of people embrace that concept at this time of year."

"People who aren't green," Cal muttered.

Gillian laughed. "Why don't we both ask for something? That way you'll know it isn't just a fluke when you get your wish."

Cal stopped walking and waited for Gillian to realise and turn to face him. When she did, he watched her very carefully as he posed his next question.

"Do you actually want to believe that this man is Santa Claus?"

Of course she was aware that he wanted to read her, so her face revealed nothing.

"I want you to believe in the possibility," she replied.

"Why?"

A smile swept across her face. "Because it's Christmas, Cal. Anything is possible."

With that, she turned and walked away from him. He stayed where he was for a little longer, his eyes following her as he thought about what she had said. There was only one thing he wanted to ask for for Christmas, but he had never dared hope that he would get it. Maybe he would give it a try.

... … …

Cal's later attempts at obtaining toy store employee records by somewhat less than legal means proved unnecessary when two women turned up at the office at lunch time. Cal and Gillian were just heading out for something to eat when the ladies arrived and they recognised one from earlier.

Helena Shaw was, in fact, sympathetic to Kris' plight, as Cal had observed. But all was not as disappointing as he had feared, for she had brought with her one of the three liars. Cal's eyes were almost brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree when he heard that information.

Jolene Parr looked genuinely ashamed as she told Cal and Gillian that she had felt compelled to lie along with the others when her - now former - friend had asked her to. It was a way to get back at the company for firing him, he had said, and Jolene _had_thought it odd that Kris believed himself to be Santa.

"That's not your opinion now though," Gillian observed as they interviewed Jolene in Cal's office. "What changed your mind?"

"Well, he wouldn't bring in deception experts if he was lying, would he?"

Gillian shot Cal a pointed look and tiny smirk at that point, which he tried to pointedly ignore.

Jolene and Helena gave the names and descriptions of the other two liars, and of last year's Santa Claus who had instigated the whole thing. They also had some very useful information on where the two employees liked to eat lunch.

"Divide and conquer?" Cal suggested after they had shown Helena and Jolene out.

Gillian nodded. "I'll take Teri, you take Paul. If we can get to them, we don't actually need to talk to evil Santa."

Cal chuckled at her use of 'evil' and remarked, "I like the way you think."

"I'd like Kris to have his job back as soon as possible," Gillian responded as they headed for the door.

"I'm surprised he even has time to be working in a toy store two days before Christmas," Cal quipped, and Gillian caught the teasing smile on his lips.

"Santa has all the time in the world, Cal," Gillian grinned, "It's Christmas magic."

… … …

Paul Myers was just opening up his latest read on his Kindle when he felt the presence of someone standing beside his table. Tilting his head up, he found a man hovering with a smile on his face.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" the man asked as he pulled out the chair and sat down anyway.

Paul frowned and glanced round the coffee shop. He noted that it was quite busy, so it was probably only fair to share. Season of good will and all that.

'Good will to all men,' a little voice in his head reminded him. He shook it away.

Looking back to his new companion, he nodded and offered a polite smile before returning his attention to his book and his hand to his lunch. Or at least he tried to.

"Cal Lightman," the stranger introduced himself, thrusting his hand across the table for Paul to shake.

Paul wiped the breadcrumbs from his hand with a napkin, then accepted.

"Paul," he responded.

"You've not heard of me?" Cal asked, sitting back in his seat as he lowered his hand.

Paul frowned at the question but, nevertheless, thought about whether or not the name was familiar.

Nothing.

"Ah I see word hadn't got round to everyone," Cal continued before Paul had answered, and Paul got a distinctly bad feeling.

"I believe you know Kris."

Paul drew back a little, ready to gather his things and leave.

"No, no, don't run off. I'm not a reporter."

Though this didn't absolutely comfort Paul, he was intrigued then as to who the man was.

"Then what do you want?"

"Very defensive, Paul. Feeling guilty about something?" The smile on Cal's face seemed incongruent with the tone of his question.

"I don't know wh-"

"Oh, sorry. I should have introduced myself properly. I'm a deception expert. I spot lies - and liars - for a living."

Paul felt his heart rate increasing. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Well, here, I heard you were involved in getting dear old Kris Kringle fired. And just days before Christmas." Though Cal didn't shake his head slowly with shame, Paul could hear such an action in his voice.

"Mr Lightman, I do work at the same st-"

"Oh I know. Teri and Jolene told me."

Paul tried his best to look unconcerned by that. "I really don't see what -"

"Paul," Cal said slowly, "Shall we skip the 'I don't know why you want to speak to me' nonsense? Teri and Jolene have explained what the three of you did. I'm just here to establish if they've told me the truth."

"What did they say?" He was really worried now and could feel his instinct to run kicking in again.

"That you're friends with George Somerson."

"That is true."

"That George was angry about being replaced this year."

Paul felt it best not to respond to that. He wouldn't be responsible for incriminating George.

"And that you lied about Kris' treatment of you."

The absolute disdain and disgust in Cal's tone wound Paul up.

"He thinks he _is_ Santa Claus."

"Do you have any proof that he isn't?"

Paul laughed out loud, clearly this guy was crazy as well. "Of course he isn't!"

"Are you sure?"

He looked at Cal as if he was completely mad. "You're the deception expert."

"Yes I am."

Cal stood, offered a polite nod of thanks, and headed towards the door, leaving Paul alone and thinking.

"Wait! That's it? You're not going to do anything?"

Cal stopped and turned back. With a shrug he told him. "I'm not the one who needs to do anything."

… … …

Meanwhile, Gillian was en route to the bakery, where Helena had said that Teri Lark liked to buy lunch, when she saw a woman fitting Teri's description heading towards her. Thinking on her feet, she waited until she was closer and then said, "Teri? Teri Lark?"

The lady stopped and smiled at Gillian, but a furrow in her brow showed that she had no idea who she was talking to. "Hi…?"

"Gillian." Gillian grinned at her. "I'm a friend of Kris. From the store."

Panic was the first thing that flashed on Teri's face, followed by a completely forced smile. "Oh, right. How are you?"

"I'm good. Thank you. How are you?... Kris misses you, you know. Between you and me, he was always talking about you. 'Teri did this…', 'Teri said this…'. Thinks your wonderful! And so lovely... I probably shouldn't tell your husband that though, right?" Gillian laughed.

And there it was: Shame.

"Er, no," Teri tried to laugh. "It's very sweet of Kris to say that though," she remarked, quietly.

"Well, you know Kris, sweetest man in the world, right? Right?" Gillian forced that laugh again and then morphed her features into a more solemn expression. "Such a shame what happened to him… But I'm sure these deception experts he's hired will clear everything up."

Teri nodded slowly, and it was clear her thoughts were no longer focused on this conversation.

Acting as if she was feeling a little awkward, Gillian said, "Well, I should get back to work. So nice to bump into you. Have a fabulous Christmas, won't you?"

And she walked away, waiting until she had rounded the next corner before letting out a huge sigh of relief.

… … …

"How did it go?" Cal asked Gillian when she returned to the office. He was lurking in her office, obviously waiting for her.

"I should have taken Paul. I could really use a gingerbread latte."

Cal chuckled at her answer before asking if it was really that bad.

"No. I think I got to her. I just had to… use different tactics. She was on her way back to work so I didn't exactly 'interview' her. But I got her thinking. I hope."

Cal rested his hands on her desk and leaned towards her, highly intrigued. "What on Earth did you do?"

"I pretended I knew her. And I have no idea where the fake persona came from but I'm so glad I only had to keep it up for a minute or so. Gosh it was exhausting. I'll stick to being me."

Cal laughed and straightened up. "Right. Well, I'll give our friend Mr Whittle a call and ask for a heads up if anyone shows up to confess. In the mean time, I have Loker and Torres trying to locate George Somerson, just in case we need him. Seems to be pretty elusive though."

"Maybe he's feeling guilty of his own accord," Gillian suggested.

"Anything is possible," Cal winked at her.

… … …

"What do you mean we don't have a telephone number for him?" Cal asked Gillian in disbelief an hour later.

"He didn't leave a number."

"So we've been running around town all day on his behalf -"

"Hardly all day. Maybe a few hours."

"- and we can't even contact him to send him our bill."

Gillian rolled her eyes. "Oh that's right, never mind telling him that we've sorted it all out and he's got his job back."

"Well, yes, we'd tell him that as well. Though I imagine Mr Whittle will have told him - if _he_ has a contact number for him."

"He said he'll be in touch so…"

Cal frowned at her. "If anyone else had asked for our help and refused to give a contact number would you have just let them 'be in touch'?"

He saw the answer to that question before she spoke.

"Probably not."

"No… I suppose there's something about him? Probably conning people all over town with his Santa Claus looks."

He tried to keep a straight face as he said it, but he couldn't. For all Cal didn't believe in Santa Claus, and refused to believe this man had any chance of actually being him, for some reason he couldn't dislike him. He couldn't believe that they had been deceived. Everything about Kris had been too genuine.

"I guess we just wait for him to -"

A knock at the door cut into Cal's sentence and Anna peeped into the room. "Mr Kringle is here to see you," she told them.

"Man's psychic!" Cal announced, springing from his chair and towards the door. Gillian followed, and the three of them walked back to the reception desk where Kris was standing.

He had a wide smile on his lips, his cheeks above his beard were rosy and he began thanking them profusely as soon as he saw them.

"We barely did anything," Gillian told him, "I think the season of good will got to them."

"Well you certainly helped it along, my dear," Kris told her emphatically. "Both of you," he added, turning to Cal. "I've asked Anna for my bill. I'll make sure you're paid promptly."

Gillian withheld a smirk as Cal had to smile gratefully.

"Thank you," Cal said.

"And think about my offer," Kris said to Cal. "I'll be in store until ten this evening."

Gillian wasn't sure she could withhold the smirk much longer.

"Oh I almost forgot," Kris proclaimed, lifting a cup from the reception desk and passing it to Gillian. "I got you a gingerbread latte."

Gillian accepted the cup with a grateful smile. "Aw, thank you. That's very sweet."

"It's my job to give people what they ask for," Kris winked at her. "Now, I need to go and listen to the wishes of some more children. Thank you again for your help. I hope I'll see you at the store later."

"Well, if not," Cal replied, "Maybe we'll see you around."

"Oh, I'm unlikely to be in this area next year," Kris told him, "I go where I'm needed. And, my work here is almost done." He smiled that mysterious smile of his, thanked them again and walked away.

… … …

"I don't see why you had to drag me here with you," Cal fussed as he opened the door to the toy store for Gillian.

She breezed past him, but their steps quickly fell into unison again. "Kris will appreciate you being here."

He mumbled something that, because of the cacophony of the electronic toys still on the shelves and the chatter of the patrons, Gillian couldn't understand. But she was almost certain that Cal was still being Scrooge-y. Or pretending to be, anyway.

Even though Kris had been rehired for less than half a day, word got around fast-probably via Twitter and Facebook-and the store was packed with people. As Cal and Gillian made their way toward Kris and the temporary North Pole, the noise level increased, and Cal groaned when he saw the number of children still waiting to talk to Kris.

This was going to take hours.

"Do we really have to join the queue?" Cal asked, almost whining.

"I'd like to thank him for the generous check he left with Anna."

"Couldn't we just send him a card?"

"Cal..."

"All right," he consented, taking her by the elbow. "We'll just run up there, say a few words, and then we're gone."

"We'll do no such thing!" Gillian insisted. "These people are waiting patiently, and we'll do the same."

Cal grumbled again, but consented, and they stepped in line. Luckily for him, one of Santa's helpers soon closed the line, and Cal was grateful because, had more people arrived, he was sure Gillian would have insisted the newcomers get in front of them. Spirit of the season, and all that. The line dwindled, and Cal eyed the last family finishing with Kris. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was only a few minutes past ten.

"See," Gillian nudged him. "That wait wasn't so bad."

After a final 'Merry Christmas' to the family, Kris greeted Cal and Gillian with a wide grin as he stood up. "I hoped to see you two tonight."

They stepped forward, and Gillian said, "We wanted to personally thank you for your generosity."

"Ah, but I should be the one thanking you-because of The Lightman Group, I got my job back. And so quickly, too!"

"Yes, it's amazing how quickly things turn around when the truth comes out," Cal said.

"Indeed it is!" Kris chuckled.

"Doctor Lightman, Doctor Foster!" Mr Whittle called as he approached them. "Thank you for your help today. Everyone's back in the Christmas spirit."

Cal stepped away to talk with Mr Whittle while Gillian stayed behind with Kris.

"Have you thought about your Christmas wishes?" he asked.

"I have," Gillian admitted.

"So what can I get you, Gillian?"

Gillian laughed. "It's been a long time since a toy store Santa asked me what I want for Christmas."

"You're never too old," Kris smiled. "What will it be?"

Gillian felt her cheeks warming, but she was determined to go ahead with her planned request. She reminded herself not to look towards Cal as she spoke, and told Kris, "I'd like a boyfriend for Christmas, please."

Kris chuckled affectionately, as if somehow he had anticipated that request. "Do you have anyone specific in mind?"

Gillian knew her blush deepened and she could feel her eyes pulling towards Cal. She forced them to remain focused on Kris as she shrugged. "Not particularly."

He smiled, knowingly, and nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Kris. And Merry Christmas." She punctuated the sentiment with a quick hug.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, my dear."

Cal rejoined them then and reached to shake Kris' hand. Though he tried to conceal it as best he could, Gillian noticed the piece of paper slipped from Cal's hand to Kris', and she smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Krin-Kris."

"And to you, Cal. You two take care of each other," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"We will," they replied in unison.

They made their way toward the exit, and Cal slipped his arm around Gillian's waist. She leaned against him, enjoying their closeness. "What was in the note?" she asked.

"What note?"

"The one you handed to Kris."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Gillian smiled. "You wrote a letter to Santa, didn't you?"

"What did you ask him for?" he replied, not answering her question.

"If I say anything, my wish won't come true. What did you ask for?" she tried again.

"I'm not telling you mine if you won't tell me yours."

They were still laughing as they stopped to put on their coats before leaving the store. Cal helped her into her coat and reached for her scarf. "You'd better bundle up. It's cold outside!"

Gillian snickered at his word choice. "I _knew_ you had some Christmas spirit in you!"

She pushed open the door, and they were greeted with a plethora of people bearing cameras and microphones-reporters eager to get headlines for the Christmas Eve morning papers and news broadcasts.

"Doctor Lightman... Is it true that you were involved in helping Mr Kringle get his job back?"

Gillian shot Cal a look to warn him to play nice.

"That's right," he replied to the question.

"You don't think he's mentally unstable?"

"I think he's harmless."

"He believes he's Santa Claus."

"Do you not?"

"Do you?" several voices responded at once, each one in disbelief.

"I believe I've asked for some very important presents this year," Cal told them, "I'm not gonna take the chance."

The reporters fired some more questions at them, but Cal shook his head to decline answering and he and Gillian walked away.

Seconds later, he noticed her smirking.

"What?" he asked her.

"You believe," she stated, smugly.

Cal laughed. "We'll see if I get what I want."

TBC…


	3. Chapter Two: 24th December

A/N: Happy new year, all. And to thank you for your patience with this story, here are the final two chapters :) We hope you enjoy them.

... ... ...

Chapter Two - December 24th

Gillian stood in front of her closet, various items of clothing discarded to the bed behind her.

She knew that dressing for dinner with Cal and Emily shouldn't be so difficult. She had done it a million times. But this felt different. Maybe it was the season; maybe it was her wish to Santa... Maybe she was reading far too much into it and needed to get a grip.

She turned around and surveyed the array of potential outfits that were strewn across her bed. Cal had called earlier, at Emily's insistence, to ensure that she knew that the dress code was 'casual'. He hadn't seen the importance of that information, but Gillian was glad to have it confirmed. How much harder this decision would have been if she'd had to wonder if they expected her to be dressed up or not.

Somewhere amongst the heap of items in front of her was the perfect combination for Christmas Eve dinner with the man she was secretly in love with and his daughter, whom she suspected was well aware of her secret.

With a sigh she rested her hands on her hips and studied the collection. Red. Red was a good colour for Christmas. That was a start, at least.

... ... ...

"Stop it," Cal insisted as Emily-for what seemed like the hundredth time-smoothed out a wrinkle in his shirt.

"You should have ironed this, Dad," Emily replied. "You look all rumply."

"It's just dinner, Em. We're not even going out."

"It's not just dinner-it's Christmas dinner. With Gillian, in case you've forgotten."

"I haven't. And it's Christmas Eve dinner."

"Dad!" she exclaimed, swatting his chest. "Just go put on something clean. Gillian will be here soon."

"Oi! This is clean," he argued, though he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't change shirts.

"Something not wrinkled!" she called out as he left the room.

... ... ...

A few minutes later, Gillian knocked on the door, and Emily rushed to let her in.

"Sorry I'm late," Gillian apologised, greeting Emily with a hug.

"You're right on time," Emily assured her. "The pie and rolls have a few minutes left, and Dad's still getting ready, anyway. Here, I'll take those," she said, reaching for the presents in Gillian's hands. "Take off your coat, and make yourself comfortable."

Gillian did as instructed then handed her coat and purse to Emily, who put them in the coat closet before moving to put the presents under the tree.

"You have a beautiful tree, Em," Gillian told her.

"Thanks. Dad didn't want a tree, but he came home one day and it was already up."

Gillian chuckled. "That sounds familiar."

Emily put the presents under the tree and told Gillian she would just let Cal know she was there. She swept upstairs and stopped outside Cal's room, where she knocked on the door. "Dad, Gillian's here!"

"I know," Cal said, flinging open the door.

She wasn't expecting him to be so close, and she yelped in surprise. "Don't do that!"

Cal chuckled, then after getting the ESA-the Emily Seal of Approval-for the new shirt, they joined Gillian in the living room.

"Merry Christmas, darling," Cal greeted her with a smile, followed by a quick peck to her cheek.

"Have you already been in the wine?" Gillian joked. "That smile seemed almost genuine."

Cal shook his head. "That's all me."

Gillian grabbed onto the back of a nearby chair as she 'recovered' from feigned shock. "Cal Lightman, _festive_?"

"It happens so infrequently," Emily said. "Don't get used to it!"

The kitchen timers went off then, and Emily rushed to get the rolls and pecan pie out of the oven before they burned. "Dinner's ready!" she called.

When she entered the kitchen and saw the volume of food laid out for Christmas dinner, Gillian exclaimed, "I thought you were worried that the shelves would be bare!"

"They are now," Cal explained.

"I didn't want us to run out," Emily added.

"No chance of that, Em," he told her. "We'll have leftovers until New Year's!"

"Then this is where I'll be!" Gillian joked.

... ... ...

With everyone full of ham, green beans, sweet potato casserole, and pecan pie, among other things, Emily gathered the dishes from the table and carried them to the sink.

"Let me help you clean up," Gillian offered.

"There's not that much, and Dad can help me," she declined. "Thanks, though. Oh, and knowing Dad, we should probably open presents before we watch the movie."

"Hey!" Cal protested, flicking some soapy water in Emily's direction. "You talk about me like I'm not even in the room!"

"But it's the truth!" Emily grinned, dodging the soap suds.

Even though Cal and Emily insisted that Gillian was the guest and would do no work, she couldn't _not _help. With the three of them working together, the clean up went quickly, and they were soon ready to open their presents.

... ... ...

Ten minutes later, with Amazon gift certificates, chocolates, and the book, 'How to Write a Best-Selling Novel' amongst the gifts now open in front of them, Cal got up and went to his bedroom, only to return a few moments later carrying a thin and flimsy gift wrapped in green tissue paper. He held it out to Gillian, and she looked at him questioningly.

"I...You..." He sighed and began again. "Be careful when you open it."

She took the gift from him and slowly tore open the green tissue paper. Inside was a paper snowflake. Her breath caught in her throat as she picked it up and examined it as best she could through tear-filled eyes. After a moment, she glanced up at him again. "Did you make this?" she asked, her voice shaky.

He nodded. "I know how much you like them."

"I do," she said as she smiled and stood to hug him. "This is one of the best gifts I've ever received. Thank you, Cal."

Emily grinned as she watched the exchange-it was like a Christmas movie was taking place right in front of her. And as clichéd as the saying was, her father and his partner were perfect for each other. If only _they_ could see that.

... ... ...

It took a few minutes before Gillian was composed enough to retrieve the DVD from her purse. While Emily loaded it into the player, Cal opted for the middle seat on the couch. Gillian kicked off her shoes and sat to Cal's right, still holding onto the paper snowflake. Emily took her seat, and the film began.

As the film played, they were reminded of Kris and the previous day's events. Good had prevailed over evil, and that was cause for being filled with Christmas cheer.

Emily was so engrossed in the movie-she, like Gillian, had a thing for Dylan McDermott-that an hour into it, she realised that Cal was asleep. "See what I mean about Dad, Gillian?"

When she got no response, she frowned and leaned forward so she could see around Cal. Gillian was also asleep. "So much for having someone to talk to after eight p.m."

Emily finished the film and stood, still smiling because of the happy feeling with which she was left. Her happiness continued when she looked down at her father and Gillian. Her head rested on his shoulder, and his pillow was the top of her head. The best part was that even their breathing was synchronized. And though children were supposed to be grossed out by their parent's moments like this, she wasn't. It was sweet. She eased the snowflake out of Gillian's hand and put it on the table so it wouldn't get damaged. Then she covered them with a blanket, turned off the TV, and went to bed.

... ... ...

Cal woke up to a pitch-black room. Preoccupied by the crick in his neck for only a second, he quickly realised that Gillian was tucked against his side, sleeping peacefully. He kept as quiet as he could so he could listen to her sleep; savouring the feeling of having her so close. After a few minutes, though, her breathing changed, and she began to wake up.

Knowing she would probably be startled by the blackness of her surroundings, Cal spoke in soft tones.

"It's me, love. Don't be scared."

He felt her relax against him for just a moment. "I could so get used to this," she mumbled.

They sat for a few more minutes, neither wanting to move.

Then Gillian tensed beside him and Cal suspected she had fully woken up and realised exactly where she was. She asked what time it was as she started to move away from him.

"Best I can tell, it's after one."

"One?" she exclaimed as she scrambled to get up. "It's late. I've got to go!"

"Wait!" Cal fumbled around and finally got the lamp on, but not before Gillian bumped into the coffee table.

She was already reaching for her phone when he caught up with her.

"Who are you calling?"

"The cab company."

Cal took the phone from her hand and ended the call. "You won't need them tonight."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're staying here," he told her.

"I don't think..."

"In the spare bedroom," he added quickly.

"Cal, I couldn't."

"You said it yourself-it's late. Gillian, it's Christmas morning..."

"All the more reason for me to leave. I don't want to intrude on your Christmas morning with Emily."

"You wouldn't be intruding. Emily would love to have you here. And so would I."

He could see in her eyes that she was tempted yet reluctant to agree. "But I don't have anything to sleep in."

"I'm sure we can find something for you."

For a moment she just stared at him, silently. She was thinking, but her expression gave no clue as to what the result of those thoughts would be. Eventually she softly asked, "You're sure it won't be any trouble?"

"No trouble at all." He reached out and caught hold of her hand, still caught in that contented feeling of waking up beside her. "Gill, I know I haven't always been the best partner..."

She put a finger to his lips and shook her head. "That's all in the past," she told him gently, "It's what you do from this point forward that matters." And the hope and anticipation that sparkled in her eyes assured him that that was the invitation that it sounded like.

He tossed her phone on the chair and grasped her other hand, stepping closer to her, pleased when she didn't back away. "What did I ever do to deserve you, Gillian Foster?"

She smiled enigmatically, as if she knew of some answer to that question, then she leaned towards him.

As their lips met, they could have sworn that they heard a thud, followed by the ringing of jingle bells.

… … …


	4. Epilogue: 25th December

A/N: The Christmas Eve chapter of this fic was also posted today, please make sure you've read that before you read this :)

... ... ...

Epilogue - December 25th

Sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, Emily tapped her cosily-slippered feet and looked again at the clock and then at the tempting stack of gifts beside her. She would give Cal another five minutes and then she was waking him up. She could not be expected to sit for much longer staring at the mysterious packages.

...

Emily only lasted about one minute before curiosity and impatience got the better of her. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to try to guess what her presents were, she picked up the top one, turning it in her hands, assessing the weight, feeling out the shape. She was just shaking it gently when a voice startled her.

"Aye, aye. Caught in the act."

She dropped the present beside the others, automatically beginning to defend herself. "I got tired of wait-" She stopped; her eyes widening and a grin creeping across her lips when she turned round and saw who was standing next to her father, wearing the same clothes as the night before.

"Hmm. Not the only one caught in the act," she observed, smiling cheekily as she got to her feet.

Cal rolled his eyes. "Gillian slept in the spare room," he explained, "Stop trying to deflect from the fact that you were peeking at your presents."

"I was letting you sleep in. But now I'm really glad I didn't come to wake you," she teased.

She hugged Cal, wishing him a merry Christmas, then she moved to Gillian. She was unable to keep her excited grin from her face as she embraced Gillian. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh calm down," Cal muttered. "Gillian slept in the spare room," he reiterated, slowly.

Emily stepped back and studied them both; her eyes narrow and lips pursed as she watched them closely. And after a minute or so Cal had to admit he was surprised Gillian hadn't yet given them away.

"Gillian slept in the spare room?" Emily eventually enquired. She looked to Gillian first for an answer.

Gillian nodded. "I did."

Emily's eyes slid across to Cal. "All night?"

In the corner of his eye Cal saw Gillian try to hide her surprise at Emily's question.

Chuckling to himself he addressed his daughter. "Em, do you really think that if Gillian had been in my bed at any point -"

"Cal!"

"Dad!"

Both women could obviously see where that sentence was heading. Laughing aloud now, Cal wound his arm round Gillian's waist and pulled her to his side. Her cheeks were bright pink and she was failing miserably at glaring at him for his comment.

"Well, it's true," he argued, enjoying the deepening of Gillian's blush.

"Wait," Emily insisted, "So you two are..."

"Gillian slept in the spare room," Cal told her seriously.

She glanced between them again, now with a lot less distance to cover. "But you are together?" Her delight was barely contained.

Cal met Gillian's eyes, his eyebrows raised seeking permission to tell Emily the whole truth. Her responding smile - simultaneously embarassed, amused and deliriously happy - had him forgetting for a moment what the question was. Which, of course, gave Emily her answer.

Squealing as quietly as she could manage, Emily hugged them both fiercely and grinned brightly up at them when she pulled back. "It's a Christmas miracle," she beamed, then, after a split-second's pause, she seemed to laugh to herself.

Cal eyed her suspiciously.

"What's that look about?"

"What look?" Emily frowned.

Cal focused all his attention on her. "There's more to your 'miracle' comment than you just being cheesily chirpy... What are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything," Emily insisted and Cal rolled his eyes.

He looked at Gillian who nodded to show she had also noticed that comment was truthful. Returning his eyes to Emily, Cal reworded his question. "What have you done?"

A smile twitched at Emily's lips. "Well, I didn't really -"

"Who else was involved?"

Emily glanced between Cal and Gillian for a couple of seconds and then admitted, "Loker and Torres."

"And what did you do?" Gillian asked with a frown that Cal shared, failing to see how Torres, Loker and Emily could have done anything at all which would have impacted on this outcome.

Now Emily could not contain her smile. "We... wrote to Santa," she grinned and she looked from one to the other again to watch their reactions.

Cal's mouth opened a couple of times but always closed again without any words having passed his lips. Gillian appeared highly intrigued. And amused.

"And what did the three of you ask for?" Gillian queried, although the answer seemed rather obvious.

"Well, I'd been putting up the Christmas decorations at your office and we got to talking about whether I'd put up any mistletoe… And then to where I should put it so that the two of you were likely to end up under it. Turns out you were the only ones unaware of your feelings for each other! Anyway, I figured you were both too clever to fall for mistletoe, so we needed an alternative plan."

There was silence for several seconds, both Cal and Gillian just staring at Emily, who grew gradually more and more nervous about what might happen next.

"So you wrote to Santa?" Cal finally spoke.

Emily shrugged. "It was worth a try."

"And apparently it worked," Gillian smirked.

Emily's eyes lit up at Gillian's words and Cal rolled his eyes again.

"I doubt Santa had anything to do with this," he argued, despite knowing it was fruitless to fight against their Christmas spirit.

"Seems awfully coincidental though," Gillian remarked, "Even you can admit that."

"I was in love with you long before Santa showed up."

"But you never thought to mention it until now," Gillian teased gently.

Emily chuckled. "Yeah, Dad! Why not last Christmas or last month, or the month before?"

Gillian fixed her sparkling eyes on Cal and in slow, deliberate words asked him, "Cal… What did you ask Kris for?"

Cal visibly squirmed and wide smiles spread across the faces of both women who watched him.

"Cal?" Gillian prompted.

Glaring at her first, for good measure, Cal eventually confessed, "You."

Squealing with unrestrained delight this time, Emily embraced them both again and squeezed them tight.

"See: A Christmas miracle! Let's see what else I got."

While Emily escaped to the presents, Cal caught Gillian's hand and kept her with him.

"What did you ask Kris for?" he enquired.

For a split second she ducked her eyes away from his gaze. But then she seemed to summon courage and she faced him proudly as she admitted, "A boyfriend."

Cal laughed out loud, unable to stop himself, and quickly wrapped his arms round Gillian's waist to apologise. "You really have seen too many cheesy Christmas movies," he remarked before placing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"No such thing," she grinned leaning in for another kiss.

"Er, not that I'm not delighted that you've finally got your acts together," Emily interrupted them, "But I am still in the room."

That beautiful blush crept up Gillian's cheeks again and Cal stole another kiss before she stepped away.

"Sorry, Em," Gillian smiled at her as she joined her by the tree.

"Right, come on, let's open presents, then," Cal decreed, sitting down on the floor.

"Gill, if we'd known you were staying," - she couldn't help but smile as she said that - "We could have saved your presents for this morning."

Gillian shook her head. "Oh don't worry."

"Yeah, Gill's fine," Cal smirked, taking hold of Gillian's hand and squeezing it affectionately, "She's already got everything she asked Santa for."

THE END


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